


Fixer

by cloudsurfing



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Episode Tag, Gen, M/M, Season 5 coda, Withdrawal, bobby's underground dungeon of doom, sam/castiel if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-05
Updated: 2013-05-05
Packaged: 2017-12-10 12:28:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/786058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudsurfing/pseuds/cloudsurfing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam shivers violently, and with every heartbeat he feels as if he's dissolving from the inside. He really thinks he might die.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fixer

**Author's Note:**

> Written right after season 5 finished airing, but never posted. An alternate direction, of sorts.

Dean can't help but wonder if there was any way that this could have turned out differently. If there was a point somewhere along the line, something that he could have done, or said, or not done or not said that wouldn't have led Sam to this place. The door only has a tiny window, but Dean can look through to where Sam is lying on the narrow bed, his back turned defiantly towards the door. Sam's shaking. It started a little while ago, and Dean knows he can expect worse before this is through.

But he knows if he stands here for much longer, if he catches another glimpse of Sam's face, wearing that horrible, betrayed look – even though Dean doesn't regret this, not a second of it, he doesn't believe there was another way now that they've reached this point. But if Dean has to see that look on his brother's face again, he doesn't trust himself not to open the door. Every problem they've faced, they've seen through together, in one way or another. Dean doesn't get on well with the fact that this time, all he can do is leave Sam to it, sit back and watch.

The thought redoubles his determination. He knows that watching isn't going to be half as bad as going through it, and maybe at the end he'll get his brother back. Dean closes the metal shutter and heads back upstairs.

~*~

Sam feels eyes on his back for long minutes before he hears the shutter slam closed, but he refuses to turn, because if he did he knows that he'd crack and break and beg and plead, anything they want to let him out. He hears retreating footsteps and wants to scream, wants to throw things, but he wraps his arms tighter around his middle and tries to lie still. It doesn't work, he's shaking like an addict – which he is. It's a chilling thought. All he ever wanted to do was to help, to have the power to stop Lilith if Dean couldn't.

And it's brought him to this; he can't decide if he's freezing or burning but his blood is like acid beneath his skin, it feels _wrong_ in a way he couldn't explain with words, he only knows that he thinks he might die if they don't get him out of here. Dean and Bobby think he can get through it cold turkey, but this isn't powder or pills, this is _power_ and Sam's drunk on it. Knew it even as he couldn't stop himself, knew that he could be heading for a spectacular finale if he didn't cut it out, but it pulled at him and Ruby _pushed_ at him. Sam allows himself a minute of grim, solid hatred for her, for drawing him into this and then for up and vanishing like smoke, for putting him _here_ , in this room. He tells himself he never would have even considered the possibility without her hints and promises, her tempting, beautiful lies.

Sam shivers violently, and with every heartbeat he feels as if he's dissolving from the inside. He really thinks he might die.

"You are in pain."

Sam startles, sits up as well as he can and turns, although he already recognises the voice. Who else could get in past that locked door?

Castiel is maybe a foot away from him, knees bent, balancing on the balls of his feet so that his eyes are level with Sam's. His expression something that Sam would take as mild interest, from a person. From an angel, Sam has no idea what to think. He doesn't reply, and Castiel frowns and says it again, as if he thought Sam didn't hear him the first time.

"How long have you been here?" Sam's damned if he's going to admit to Castiel that he hurts. Or, hey. Maybe he's just damned.

"Not long." He doesn't say anything else, and the silence stretches but Castiel doesn't look away.

"I'm not a sideshow. Get out of here." Sam's words have no fire - he doesn't have the energy. He sighs. "We didn't expect to see you again. I thought you'd picked your side and we aren't it."

"My side is with heaven, as it should be. But I admit. I was curious."

"About what?"

"God gave you free will, and this is where yours has led you." Castiel spares the room a brief, yet somehow all-encompassing glance. "Tell me: did you know when Dean brought you here that this was what he intended?"

Sam's eyes darken and he looks away. "No."

"But you suspected."

Sam pauses, weighing the benefits of telling the truth. Decides there is no more time for lies. "Yes."

"And yet, you came anyway." Sam doesn't reply – what is there to say? Even when he's strung out he has enough of a hunter's instinct to know when he's being played and, well, maybe he hadn't worked out quite what Dean and Bobby had planned, but a part of him knew that Dean couldn't possibly just let it slide, that somewhere there was going to be a plan to _fix_ him, whether Sam thought he needed it or not. Maybe part of him thought that he did.

"Perhaps there is goodness in you yet, Sam Winchester." Castiel reaches out a hand and, tentatively, touches his fingertips to Sam's face. Castiel's skin is cool, and Sam imagines that his shaking eases, maybe a little. Castiel catches Sam's eyes so that he cannot look away. "You must choose your own path. It will be interesting to see what it will be."

Sam agrees, but at the rate he's going downhill, his choice now and his choice twelve hours from now could be very different. "Can you help me?"

"Yes." Castiel draws his hand away.

"But you won't."

"It is not my place."

Sam pulls back as far from Castiel as he can, turns away. "Then get out of here."

There's no reply, and when Sam turns back around he's alone again. For a brief, horrible moment, he feels completely deserted. All that he has is his blood burning in his veins and, apparently, his very own silent angelic cheering squad, for all the good that does him. But he has Dean, upstairs, who must still give a damn or he'd have left Sam to burn himself out on stolen power. Dean, who won't try to understand what Sam was trying to do. Sam's stomach turns over and he's lost for a moment in a horrible wave of nausea. It sets his resolve - he needs to get out of here. He's the only one that can stop Lilith and he has to, no matter the cost.

Castiel was wrong. He has no choices left to make.

 


End file.
